


you're my song from cyndi lauper

by orphan_account



Category: Perfect Times Eleven
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Kinda, M/M, car hookup, me having a thing for cherry flavoring, mlm/wlw solidarity, moving very fast, teenagers being stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 12:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jason, Daisy, and Donovan go grocery shopping. Donovan doesn't know how that turns into a drive-in movie, but it somehow does.80's Films songfic (kinda).





	you're my song from cyndi lauper

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if Kroger exists in upstate New York.
> 
> Inspired by "80's Films" by Jon Bellion.

I opened the door of Dr. Morello’s busted old minivan. Daisy sat in the driver’s seat, wearing a pair of sparkly-framed aviators to guard against the setting sun and scrolling through iFunny with the vitriol of a tween boy. I tried to sit in the passenger seat, but Daisy wouldn’t have it. 

“Out,” she said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. 

“Okay, you’re not even going to look at me when you tell me to leave? That’s cold.”

Daisy looked at me, unamused. I couldn’t see her eyes behind the reflective lenses of those stupid sunglasses. 

“Also,” I said, “FYI, aviators make you look like a douchebag.”

“You have to sit in the back, dipshit. Shotgun is for non-dipshits only. So, that means you and Jason have to sit in back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the fun one in this relationship?” I asked, still sitting in the passenger seat. 

Daisy sighed and sat back in her seat, slumping and rolling her eyes. “I just hate driving. And grocery shopping. But I’m the only kid with a driver’s license, so. Here we are.”

The back door behind Daisy slid open. Jason got in and sat, happily bouncing up and down. 

“It’s food time, bitches!” he crowed. He was holding a $20 bill in one hand and a credit card in the other. “She said we can get dinner by ourselves after shopping!” 

Daisy’s face lit up with a smile, and she turned toward Jason. “Fuck yeah! Burger King?”

I frowned. “Whoawhoawhoa. Burger King? What about, I don’t know, good old Mickey D’s? Or Arby’s? Y’know, somewhere with good food?”

Daisy turned back toward me. “Donovan, you’re new here. I don’t think you understand how fast food works.” She took the money and card from Jason and shoved them in the cup holder. “Do you know how many chicken nuggets 20 dollars would buy us at McDonald’s? Like, less than 50. At the BK, this could potentially get us over 100 nuggets.”

“That’s not to say that we’ll get that many chicken nuggets,” Jason interjected. “But we _could_. 

“Okay,” I said. “Fine. We can go to the Burger King. But can we get ramen at the store?”

“We can go as soon as you get in the fucking backseat, bruh,” said Daisy. 

I stretched my arms up and put them behind by head, leaning back (perhaps with more drama than necessary). “Nah. I think I’ll stay here.”

“I’ll give you the aux if you sit back there and stop distracting me.”

Next thing I knew, I was sitting across from Jason in the back as Daisy started the car. The aux in hand, I plugged my phone in.

Jason looked over my shoulder. “Please, no showtunes,” he said. 

“I wasn’t going to play any!” I said. I quickly swiped back to my Spotify home page—I was, in fact, about to play the _Fiddler On The Roof_ soundtrack. 

I scrolled through Spotify’s recommendations, finally settling on the “This Is Queen” mix. That should satisfy discount Danny Zuko, I thought. 

Sure enough, Jason smiled when “Bicycle Race” came on. He bopped his head along to each song the playlist cycled through, but he wouldn’t sing along with me and Daisy. We were, of course, belting at the top of our tiny teenaged lungs. 

During “You’re My Best Friend,” I decided enough silence from him was enough. “For someone who dresses like a wannabe Freddie Mercury,” I said, eyeing his outfit (too much leather), “you sure don’t seem excited enough about these songs.”

“He doesn’t sing,” Daisy said from the front. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Not worth the effort, if you ask me,” Jason said. “Better to let Freddie do what Freddie does best without me.”

“Fucking buzzkill, as always,” Daisy said. 

All in all, it took about half an hour to get to the grocery store. Why Morello lived a half hour from the nearest Kroger, I still don’t know. We bopped along to Queen the whole way, not saying much. I scrolled through a Jeff Goldblum stan account on Instagram until we reached the store. 

Daisy pulled into a parking spot near the cart return. All things considered, she wasn’t that bad of a driver, but she did hit a couple sharp turns- and in the process, my shoulder against the window. 

She turned the car off. “Alright, losers. I am going to go do the shopping, to make it as efficient as possible, and you two idiots are going to bond by picking out chips.”

“And ramen,” I piped up. Rather helpfully, if you ask me. 

Daisy sighed. “And ramen. Okay. Three, two, one, break!” 

We got out of the car and ran into the Kroger. It was already eight o’clock—getting dark. We had to be home from dinner by eleven, and it sounded to me like Daisy and Jason wanted to spend as much time as possible in the Burger King. 

Jason led me to the chip aisle by the wrist. 

So of course I laced our fingers together, grinning wildly as I waited for him to jerk his hand away. Which he did. 

“You are hands-down one of the most annoying people I have ever met, you know that?” he said.

“High praise, Ferris Bueller.” Honestly, I’d heard worse, and from better looking people. (That’s not true. Jason was one of the most attractive people I’d ever met).

He snorted. “I look nothing like Ferris Bueller. Get your movies straight. I dress like-”

“Are you going to say Danny Zuko? Because yeah. The _Grease_ vibes you’re going for are successful,” I said. “I was trying to insult your weird obsession with 80s movies.”

“I- yeah. _Grease_ was my favorite film when I was a kid, so. Thanks for noticing? I guess?” Jason trailed off.

“Ferris Bueller is hotter, though. So I guess in that respect you’re more like him.”

Jason averted his eyes and scanned the (rather pitiful) chip aisle. Awww, did I embawwas him? “How about Cheetos?” 

“Mmmm, no. Too orange, too crunchy, somehow both too much drama and not enough.” I looked over the chip selection. Doritos, no. Tostitos, no. Fritos, no…. 

“What’s with all of the chip brands ending in ‘-itos’?” I said aloud. “Doritos, Fritos, Tostitos… It never ends!”

“Just like this fucking shopping trip,” Jason said. He rolled his eyes so far back I thought they were going to do a full 360, and leaned his head back to look at the fluorescent lights overhead. “Why don’t you just pick.”

“Feeling especially charitable tonight, huh?”

“Well. I owe you one. Dr. Morello only lets us go out when she’s feeling really annoyed, and I have you to thank for that.”

Hmm. A little insulting, but not surprising. “Glad I could be of service.” I looked at the bottom shelf. 

“Aha!” I said, picking up a bag.

Jason looked over my shoulder. (Again. Nosy bitch). “Cauliflower puffs?” he asked. His face was all scrunched up. Granted, it was in disgust, but it was fucking adorable.

“What? They’re delicious _and_ nutritious.” I jiggled the bag in front of his face. “Listen. They’re telling you to eat them!”

Jason snatched the bag from me and opened it in record time. He must have had some sort of weird skill in opening chip bags. He popped a puff into his mouth.

“Are you allowed to do that? I know you’re cultivating your ‘bad boy image’ or whatever, but I think that’s stealing.”

“And Daisy says I’m the buzzkill,” he said around a mouthful of puff. “We’re gonna buy these. It’s whatever.”

He popped a couple more puffs. “Hm. They’re actually pretty good.” He started toward the end of the aisle. And I followed, because. Well. I’m not sure. I guess there was nothing else to do.

Daisy came around the corner with a cart full of groceries. “You idiots finished?”

“Yup,” Jason said, smiling and taking another cauliflower puff from the bag. 

“Ooh, I love these!” Daisy said, reaching her hand in. “Jason’s always been too stubborn to try them, but I guess now he will for some reason?” She raised her eyebrows at Jason. 

“Let’s just get the ramen and go,” he said. Daisy led us to the appropriate aisle, pushing the cart in front of her like a mom rushing to get her shopping done in between pilates and picking up the kids.

I jogged a little bit (bleh) to catch up with her. “You didn’t tell me about Jason’s penchant for changing the subject so abruptly.”

“Oh, is he doing that again?” Daisy said nonchalantly. “It’ll pass. He’s nervous. I think he’s starting not to hate you, and that’s hard for him.”

“What, not hating people?”

“Exactly,” she said, taking a large package of instant ramen packets off the shelf and putting in the bottom of the cart. 

“I genuinely have no idea how to respond to that,” I replied. Jason, having fallen behind, was now headed to the checkout with the shortest line.

“Then don’t, pussy.”

We successfully checked out, courtesy of Dr. Morello’s credit card, and piled back in the car. The Burger King was less than five minutes away. Daisy pulled into the drive-thru.

“I’ll get… uh…. two large onion rings, uh…. three plain cheeseburgers, two regular cheeseburgers, a ten-piece nugget with barbecue, and-”

“Get the frosted cherry!” Jason hissed at her from the back.

“And three frosted cherry slushies, please.” 

We got our food, and Daisy pulled into a parking space to distribute. She clambered over into the back seat with us, handing out food and placing it around the seats. It started to get cramped, but she handed me a warm carton before I could think about it. 

“Eat,” she said. I put an onion ring in my mouth.

“Holy fuck. These are so good.”

“I know, right?” said Daisy, gnawing on some chicken nuggets drenched in barbecue sauce. She took a ring from the carton I was holding and put it in her mouth along with the nuggets. Daisy, I was figuring out, had really terrible eating habits.

Jason, who had been silently devouring two cheeseburgers, handed me a slushie. “Try it. It has ice cream in it, too.” 

I sucked (Haha!). My eyes widened, and I looked at Jason. “You have surprisingly good taste in beverages, for a milk-drinker.”

He chuckled and smiled, taking a sip of his own ice cream slushie. “Thanks, kid.”

“You two are the same age,” Daisy said. She swallowed her bite of nugget and grinned blissfully, then handed me a cheeseburger. I unwrapped it and started eating, but it wasn’t nearly as good as the onion rings.

Jason rolled his eyes and kept sucking (Haha! Again!) on the drink. 

I reached into the trunk and grappled with the groceries until I found the ramen, took out a packet, and sat back down. I unwrapped it and started biting the block of noodles.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” 

I turned to look at Jason, clutching the noodles like a raccoon. “Eating ramen? Duh.”

He shook his head. “That’s not eating ramen. That’s acting like an animal.”

I indignantly broke off a piece and held it out to him. “You ended up liking the cauliflower puffs. Trust me on this.”

Jason reluctantly snatched the noodles out of my hand and shoved the chunk into his mouth. He crunched for a few seconds, then made a face and took a sip of slushie. 

“It’s… okay,” he said, obviously lying.

Daisy started laughing. “Nice of you to lie to our guest, Jason.”

I just continued to eat the ramen, and some more onion rings. We sat in silence for a couple minutes, just crunching and munching along until Daisy took a break to plug her own phone into the aux. She started playing some slow, acoustic stuff.

“Interesting vibes,” I said. 

“It’s getting late, bruh. Time for some smooth sailing.”

Jason snorted. “Smooth sailing? It’s Mitski, not a jazz club.”

Shit, this guy was actually funny when he wasn’t being an asshole. Unfortunately, that made him about ten times sexier than I could handle. I laughed. “He’s got you there, Daisy.”

Daisy stretched her arms up in the air, yawning. She climbed back into the driver’s seat, having finished her meal, but continued to sit.

“We’ve got another hour before we gotta head home. Anything else you guys wanna do?” she said, turning to look back at us.

“Oh, let’s go to the drive-in! We might be able to sneak in, if there’s anything good playing,” Jason said. He crumpled his empty burger wrappers and shoved them into the empty Burger King bag.

Daisy agreeably started the car again, and started driving.

The drive-in was only ten minutes away. Jason and I finished the rest of the food in those ten minutes, putting all of the trash into the carryout bag and placing the bag in the passenger seat.

“Front seat is for non-dipshits only!” Daisy grumbled.

“King Trash Bag is not a dipshit,” I said. She shook her head, but kept driving.

There was no one manning the ticket counter, so we managed to pull into the yard without any trouble. 

“Yes!” I said, seeing what movie was playing. “Ferris Bueller with Ferris Bueller!”

“I’ve told you,” said Jason. He was laughing a little bit. God, his laugh was nice. “I don’t look like Matthew Broderick at all. Nor am I trying to copy his look.”

“You’re just as sexy as he is, though,” I said. I looked over at Jason. He had turned his eyes away from the screen, and was looking down into his still-unfinished slushie. He glanced up, and we locked eyes for a second. Or I thought we did, at least. Maybe he was just looking out the window. For some reason.

I shifted closer, into the middle seat. Jason was leaning his head against his own window, looking out the windshield at the movie. Daisy had tuned the radio to the movie and put it at a low hum, but was sitting on the hood of the car and watching the movie. It was towards the beginning, and- oop. Matthew Broderick was making out with Sloane in front of the school. 

I looked at Jason again. He was still staring at the movie, his eyes sort of glassy.

“This is my favorite John Hughes movie,” he said, rather out of nowhere. 

“Really?” I said, sitting up on my knees. “Not, like, The Breakfast Club?” 

“No. I like Molly Ringwald, but I like Matthew Broderick better.” He moved his hand from his own thigh to mine. “I bet yours is Pretty in Pink, though. You act just like Duckie.”

“It’s actually Sixteen Candles,” I said, trying desperately not to freak out (and consequently freak _him_ out). _HishandisonmythighwhatdoIdoholyfuckholyfuck._

“Wow. You’re even more basic than I thought.”

“Uh. Thanks. I try.” I hesitantly inched my hand over towards his. He looked at me, and we actually, genuinely locked eyes. Holy shit, was it electric in there.

“You’re really not that bad, Donovan Long.”

“Wow. Hearing my name is nice. Not asshole, or douchebag, or…”

“You know what?” Jason said, laughing. “I’m not that mean to you.”

“I, personally, thought you hated me,” I said.

“Mm. Not so much anymore.”

“Oh yeah?” I put my hand fully on top of his. “You won’t mind this, then. Since, y’know, you don’t hate me anymore.”

And—miracle of miracles!—he turned his hand over and interlaced it with mine. “Surprisingly enough, I don’t.”

“Okay. This is great, and all, Jason,” I started rambling—shit! “But you’re going a little fast. You don’t hate me and now we’re holding hands?”

“You’re trying to talk to me about going too fast?”

“That’s fair. That’s fair,” I admitted. “But-”

“Shut up, Donovan. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.” He looked away from me, out of his own window and up towards the stars.

“Jason. Seriously. Don’t fucking lead me on.”

“I’m not-” he started, snapping his head back to me. “I’m not _fucking_ leading you on, Donovan! I wouldn’t do that! What the hell do you think of me?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay.” 

And then—_holyfuckholyfuck_—I kissed him. And he made this little noise, holy _fuck_ that little noise, almost like a- a cat, and started kissing me back. And on the screen, Matthew Broderick was probably gallivanting around Chicago, causing all sorts of hilarious shenanigans, but it didn’t matter. Not to me and Jason. 

I broke away first.

“Jesus, Donovan. Okay. Wow. Okay,” he said, breathing in cute little gasps.

“Just to clarify, that was okay, right?”

But he just kissed me again. It was more than okay. I put the hand that wasn’t holding his on his neck, trying to drink in as much Jason as I could. And—oh, shit, there’s the boner—it was fucking wonderful. And we kept at it, right up until Daisy opened the door to get back in the car.

“Whoa!” 

We broke apart and looked up, blinking as the lights in the car turned on. 

“Shit. Hi, Daze,” Jason mumbled.

“You know what?” she said, throwing her hands up. “I don’t even care anymore. Just have at it, I’ll be quiet. You’ll only have until we get home, anyway.” 

She got in her seat and closed the door. The lights turned off. “But,” she said, and turned to face us. “If I get pulled over because a cop sees that you two don’t have your seatbelts on, you _will_ have to pay my fine.”

Daisy turned back towards the wheel. She switched from radio back to aux and started the car, pulling out of the drive-in’s lot and away from the movie.

I decided now was the perfect time to get on Jason’s lap. I straddled him (yup, we were definitely both hard), still not letting go of his hand, and just looked down at his face.

“You’re like, the most attractive, amazing person I’ve ever met,” I murmured admiringly.

“Really? I’ll be honest,” he said, grinning, “I was afraid I had peaked in high school.” He put his hands on my face (God, his hands were fucking beautiful. Shame they were no longer holding mine) and kissed me again.

“No, you silly bastard,” I said as I pulled away. “You couldn’t have peaked in high school. Because it literally ended a month ago, but also ‘cause we never hooked up then.”

“Oh. Are we hooking up now?” He grinned again. He just kept grinning, every time we broke apart. 

“What, are you happy about it or something?”

“No,” he said, but kissed me again regardless. God! He tasted like cherry flavoring, and ice cream, and cherry ice cream, and just overall incredible. I pulled away and started to move down his neck, which was long as hell. I found a spot I liked and nipped at it, sucking just a bit.

“Ah-” Jason moaned. “Fuck, Donovan.” But he pushed me away. “Just the face for now. She can’t know.”

I guess “she” was Dr. Morello, because Daisy certainly knew already. I shrugged. “Okay.”

And we went back to the amazing, blissful making out.

It wasn’t until Daisy was pulling into the long driveway that Jason and I stopped. I reluctantly went back to sit in my own seat, but Jason held my hand across the middle. Daisy parked and turned off the car. 

“You guys are gross, but I guess I’m happy for you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Thanks much,” I said. “The gays appreciate your support.”

“Hey, melem-wuluwuh solidarity, right?” Jason and I got out of the car to help Daisy bring the groceries into the house. Mercifully, Dr. Morello wasn't awake. The second time we walked out to the car, we found that Daisy had taken the rest of the bags in. Jason reached up to close the empty trunk, and took my hand to lead me to the front door. We stood in front of it for a moment. He looked at me, meeting my eyes.

“I feel like you’re dropping me off at the end of a movie,” I said.

“And you’re going to lean against the railing and watch as I drive away?” he replied.

“Or we could both go in there and pick this up tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jason said. Then he took my face in his hands (Again!) and kissed me—slowly, chastely. I broke away reluctantly. 

“How about you go in after me. Then we can pretend you’re dropping me off—like in a real first-date movie.”

“God, you’re a sap. Okay,” he said, smiling. He kissed me again, this time a short peck. “Goodnight, Donovan Long.”

“Goodnight!” I’m sure I was beaming an embarrassingly ear-to-ear smile.

I opened the door and walked away from the night, into the quiet of the house. As I was going upstairs, I heard the door open and close again. “Goodnight,” I whispered again, down the stairs. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

A soft chuckle from the darkness. “Okay, asshole. I won’t.”

I was still smiling as I closed my bedroom door. And as I put on my pajamas. And as I turned off the light, and tucked myself in, and fell asleep, and I didn't stop smiling until the morning came.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS GOT BIG CHEESY AND MAYBE OUT OF CHARACTER BUT I'M GAY AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME


End file.
